The Last Rider
by Deansfavdemon
Summary: When there seemed like no hope was left in Murtagh's future, he met someone, and something, that would never make him look back to where he'd been before. But can he ever make the Varden...and his brother, trust him again? MurtaghOC
1. Are You A Dwarf?

Dark times fill a world with no sun, but long hours of night. Stars seem to disappear into the navy sea and all that can be seen is the fires of battle. Screams of pain can be heard within the usual silence of the mountains. Animals seem to always be on guard in the forest, hoping to not become part of the ongoing war themselves. The Battle of the Burning Plains had ended, but it only signaled the more complicated part of the ongoing fights beginning.

Riders were the talk on everyone's lips after the battle, seeing there was now another. Eragon Shadeslayer was no longer a lone Rider, but the other was not on the Varden's side. At least, no one thought he was. With only a single egg left, the Varden seemed hasty to find it and hatch it for their side. No one seemed more persistent then Nasuada, the leader wanting her side to win in the honor of her father. Though, the egg wasn't only on her mind.

The greedy King Galbatorix also thought of it often, hoping to not only ensnare Murtagh and Thorn, but the last Rider as well. If that egg were to hatch for his side of evil, he wouldn't have any doubt of overthrowing the Varden and taking the control of everything he set eyes on. It was his last hope, before the Rider's took over his land once more.

Even with confusion clouding everyone's minds, it clouded no one's more then Murtagh's. With being taken to the King by the twins, he had no choice but to bow down and take orders. Galbatorix threatened his new dragon's well-being and he couldn't help but give in. Though, when the King gave him information on his family, he wished he would have figured out all the facts before becoming a slave to the ruler of evil. Now he had to trap his brother and his dragon the same way he was trapped by the twins.

After fighting Eragon and seeing the pain that fell upon his new face, he couldn't take it much longer and left. Upon Thorn's back, they flew to the side they knew they'd be safe on and rested at the edge of the battle. Blood stained grass and flooded dirt across the massive field. Soldiers were dying with their last breath filling their lungs as he sat upon his blood red dragon and stared.

There was nothing he could do now. Returning to the King with news that he hadn't captured the prey, he would be sure to feel his punishment for weeks on end. Gazing towards the Varden's camp, he could see the now rising sun glitter against the scales of an old friend. Now he'd have to fight them, or find a way to get back to where he believed he belonged.

-----

Leaving his best friend in the courtyard of the large fortress he now was to call home, he walked slowly back into the dark, damp hallways. He was unsure of what his punishment would be; either by magic or by sword, he didn't know. Passing guards, he could see them eyeing him as if he wasn't welcomed there. Though, he never wished such hospitality in the first place.

Arriving in front of the daunting throne room doors, he looked across the deep carvings and the jeweled fronts. Placing a gloved hand on the icy iron handle, Murtagh used no haste to open the heavy entry. When the door stood only slightly ajar, he took in the back of his master's head, and glared with detached emotions.

_Just do what he says, there's nothing more you can do. At least not today._ The resonant raspy voice of Thorn entered his mind as he continued opening the door.

_Thanks for the information, Thorn, but I don't necessarily feel like doing his never ending bidding today. Now, please leave me so I can concentrate on not being killed just this afternoon. Otherwise, you'll be dead and then what will you do? _Feeling the connection weaken, he felt the annoyance of his companion's mood brush his mind once before he lost all contact.

Closing the door with as much energy as he had used to open it, he rested his forehead against it momentarily before turning to see His Majesty staring at him with artic eyes but a smile grazing his tight face. Something that would scare someone close to death if they didn't come prepared. Taking a deep bow, he stood upright again and watched as the King began to pace in front of his large throne. A throne meant for a real King, but only sat a rodent in disguise.

"It seems you have returned to me empty handed, Murtagh. That's such a pity to hear," bowing deeply again, he nodded his head slightly. The saliva in his mouth and throat seemed to dry up quickly and left him with a need of water.

"I have, sire. Though, if I may be as bold to say..." waiting for permission, he clamped both clammy hands behind his back. The rough wool of his tunic scratched against his gloves, and he held the intense stare of his master.

"Are you bold enough to say it?"

"Yes, I'm bold enough to say that if I had the chance again to capture the Rider and it's beast, I would fulfill my duty." He felt a growl in his mind far off, knowing Thorn heard him call another dragon a beast. It had to be done though, to keep up appearances that he didn't care what went on.

"I have no doubt you would, seeing your own life would be on the line the next chance you get. Though that is important to me, a more pressing matter has come to my attention. That will need to be dealt with first," nodding his head to make sure the King knew he was listening, he wringed his hands uncomfortably.

"Anything you need, your Majesty."

"My last egg has been stolen. I'm afraid that without it, we have a slim chance of taking down the Varden and you can see how that would upset me." The rigid smile on his face showed that he was trying to keep calm and collected, not to burst and kill everyone in sight. Quite possibly including himself as well.

"Yes your liege, but what do you need me to do?" He could see the evil glint in Galbatorix's eyes grow a little larger as his stretched face relaxed.

"I need you to retrieve it Murtagh. What else would I have you do? I'd have a guard do it, but they can be so clumsy and dense most of the time. Go find the egg, and if it has hatched for someone, bring them back as well. He would most likely be a great addition to our little family."

Family was one of the last words Murtagh would ever even expect to hear out of Galbatorix's mouth. He rolled his eyes lazily when the King turned towards the wall.

"Where do I need to go?"

"Osilon. That's the place where the Raz'zac saw it last. Gossip gets around quickly when you need to know something. It's a very short flight, so I'll hope you to have found it within a weeks time. Bring it to me, Murtagh. Be a faithful servant just as your father was," he felt something inside himself clench at the mention of Morzan. Holding his inner demons close, he gave another bow.

"It should only be an hours flight, I'll return to you with much haste." Leaving through the same bejeweled door that he entered from, he let his leather clad feet rush back to his quarters.

Grabbing a cloth sack from the corner of the stony room, he placed clothes, cloths, water, and a small loaf of bread safely within it. Throwing his cloak lastly on top, he threw it over his back and grabbed his long bow before hurrying back to the courtyard.

_Thorn, I have news. _Reconnecting with his dragon, he passed the guards with more bounce in his step then when he had come in first.

_Oh, still alive hatchling? I thought that spectacular mood may have gotten you killed finally. _Smirking at the mood that his best friend had come to taken, he rounded the corner and could see his crimson tail resting against the pebbled ground.

_Yes still alive, much to your dismay I know. We are leaving for Osilon, right away. The last egg has been captured, this could be our way out! _His dragon's mind seemed to change quickly on whether this was good or bad news.

_Well then, we should leave without a second to waste. I want to be back in the air without having to watch my tail. _

Agreeing, he laced the large animal with it's saddle. Making sure everything was securely onto his back, he climbed upon Thorn's knee and got himself into the saddle with great ease. The scars on his inner thighs from his first dragon ride still felt sore, but nothing that would stop him from riding every day for the rest of his life.

_Let us go, my friend. Yet, say goodbye to the kingdom. It will hopefully be the last time we see it as our cage, _Murtagh watched as the large stone structure became smaller and smaller as the air rushed in front of him.

_A short goodbye, and nothing more._

Bringing his face back to look at the direction Thorn was traveling in, he laid his body against rough scales and let his mind rest. It was to be a short ride, no doubt, but a ride where he could surely catch up on some well wanted and needed sleep. Closing his eyes to the bright afternoon sky, he let the silence of the sky lull him to a deep sleep.

-----

Feeling as if something was pinching at his mind, he let his rested eyes open slowly. They were in the woods, a mountain standing tall behind them and a path well ridden in front of them. Sliding down off of Thorn's back carefully, he let his feet touch the ground once again.

_I'll go take a look around. Hopefully I'll be able to sniff out who's got the egg before the night ends. Then all I have to do is figure on how to make them trust me. _Rubbing the length of his pal's muzzle one time, Thorn jumped back into the air to go on a hunt. The dragon knew he wouldn't be needed unless called, so he would take the wooded area to his advantage.

Readjusting the pack, Murtagh set off the dirt road to try and find the village he was meant to be in. Trying to keep his mind not only on the mission but also on how he'd get out of Galbatorix's hold, he barely realized that the trees had begun to turn into houses. Stopping on the edge of Osilon, he let his sack fall to the ground and pulled out his cloak. Throwing it over his shoulders and clasping it at his throat, he drew the hood and headed into the village.

"Good evening, sir," an older man said, passing by with a cane steadying his wobbly walk. Giving a gentle nod to the elderly fellow, he thought it not best to speak to anyone he didn't need to. News about Galbatorix's Rider in town wouldn't help win a popularity contest. Letting his eyes wander from merchant to peasant on the road, he saw no one that seemed out of the ordinary. At least no one that seemed to be hiding the secret of a dragon egg.

Seeing a well lit cottage up ahead, he walked a bit quicker and saw that it was actually a pub. Thinking it would be just as well of a place to look as any, he headed inside and found a table in a dark corner. Pulling at his gloves a little, he saw a shadow fall over him and looked up into large brown eyes.

"'Ello dear, what can I get you," a redheaded waitress bent over the table at him with a very forward look about her. As if wanting to go in for the kill of her prey.

"No, ma'm, I'm fine," he said softly, watching the older woman adjust her tight corset before walking off to some drunk buffoons.

Taking in every man he could, he didn't feel a hint of fear or wonderment coming from any of them. Deciding to check hands, he couldn't find a gedwey ignasia on anyone either. About to give up and go back outside, a jangle of the door's bell made him to turn and find someone who looked like he could help.

A young man, blonde hair matted to his forehead by sweat, ran up to the bartender and started whispering quickly as if in a terrible hurry. Grabbing his pack from the floor as the bartender walked off for a moment, he heard the crash of a beer mug and turned for only a second. When he looked back, the young man was a blur towards the door as he ran.

Standing up abruptly, he walked in between people and knocked beer out of the bar wench's hands before getting back into the late afternoon air. The sun was beginning to set and he had to squint a little to find the man's foot falling behind the pub's wall. Turning to follow, he let one hand fall to Zar'oc at his hip. Walking back into the woods, he let his eyes readjust and pursued as silently as he could.

The man was now carrying a large burlap sack that he could tell had meat in it by the stench wafting in front of him. Waiting as the opportune moment arose, he leapt at the man quickly and pinned him to the ground with Zar'oc piercing at his neck. The stranger struggled, his parcel falling somewhere to the side of them.

"Don't think you'll get your meat back so fast. Now, tell me where you're taking that, and I might let you live to see another day," speaking deeply, he felt the man's arms calm and hazel eyes looked up at him with fear.

"I'm taking it to someone of great power. They're that way, and I cannot be late or I'll be dinner for his pet," rolling his eyes, he slowly got off the belly of the frightened peasant.

"Point me in the direction with your parcel, and I'll take it myself," the man shoved it in his hands quickly, pointed straight and then to the right before running as fast as his legs could carry him back to town.

Starting off in the direction of where the shaky hand had pointed him, he began to get irritated when he couldn't find anything. Wandering around for a bit longer, he was about to give up when he saw the glimmering of something that he couldn't mistake for anything else. Dragon scales.

Slowly approaching the tail of the magnificent creature, he saw it was only the size of a dog. Probably have been hatched only weeks earlier, he smiled at the fact that it took so long for the King to figure it out. Walking around the bush, he heard the deep growl of the animal before he bowed in front of it and held out the parcel.

"I've brought your food, dragon. I mean no harm to you or your Rider," the dragon cocked it's head to the side, sizing him up as if to eat him. Murtagh took this span of time to really look at the dragon. It was covered head to toe in coral scales, it's spikes a regal gold as well as it's claws. Staring into the round sienna eyes that were thinking about him, he felt mesmerized to see another dragon.

After what seemed like forever, the dragon accepted the meat and ate it with no means to leave any leftovers. Walking over to the fire, he let his gloved hands warm up and let his hood fall to his shoulders. Running a hand through his thick black hair, he sauntered back over to the dragon and brushed his leather covered arm against it's vibrating sides.

_What's your name? _He heard a small female voice enter his mind, comforting him in ways he had known not until now.

_Murtagh, dear dragon,_ as he went to give her a long stroke on the neck, he heard branches snap in two and looked up to the other side of the clearing.

"What are you doing with my dragon?" In any normal situation, his sword would be drawn and he'd be in a fighter's stance. But, the whole thing threw him off quite drastically.

"I...well, I was feeding her," mentally slapping himself, he wondered how great of a warrior he sounded like.

"You aren't Gabriel," his eyes stayed on the new Rider without intention of leaving. It wasn't that the Rider was too old of man, or too young of boy...it was the sheer fact that the Rider was a woman. Well, a girl, probably about his age.

"No, I'm Murtagh. Who might you be?" Beautiful emerald eyes looked him over as she walked a little closer to him.

"Andria. Why are you feeding my dragon?" She cocked her head to the side just as her companion had done earlier, and he couldn't help a small smile.

"Well, Andria, Gabriel got caught up in town. I thought I'd fill in for the evening. What's your dragon's name?" The girl eyed him carefully still, her hood around her face so all he could see was her bright eyes.

"Wydra, her name is Wydra. Who exactly are you? You aren't from Osilon, I know that much. Are you from the Empire, because I didn't steal the egg. Some man gave it to me weeks ago and I thought it nothing more then a stone. That is, until it hatched and this happened," she took a silver glove from one of her hands and held it up so he could see the Rider's scar.

"I am not from the Empire, I'm just someone who is a lot like you," slowly removing his own glove, he decided that this may be the only way to get the girl to trust him. Showing her his scar, her eyes went from confused and scared, to a little more pleased and trusting.

"So, how did you find me then?" She unclasped the cloak and slid it off carefully before letting him see her fully. Long chestnut hair fell in curls to her hips, freckles danced across porcelain skin, and he would have deemed her the most perfect looking human being until he noticed her ears. They were pointed much like Arya's had been.

"Luck and gossip led me to you. You're an elf?" Her hands shot to her ears as if they were on fire. Turning to her dragon, she let out a sigh and shook her head sadly.

"No, not an elf. I'm only half elf, my father was a Rider, but no elf like my mother had been," he looked at her almost amazed. Elves usually never took human's because of thinking they were below themselves, and the sheer fact that they grossly outlived them. Though, she did say her father was a Rider.

"I apologize for the mistake, I should have known from the freckles."

A warm pink rose in her cheeks as she set a heavy pot over the fire. Grabbing some logs that she had brought back with her, she built it larger to cook whatever was in the pot faster. He watched Andria sit down, the grace of an elf but the vocal tone and structure of a human. She was a complex stranger he was sure would be a challenge in many aspects.

"What are you then? Part dwarf, or anything other than human?" She was teasing him, and it was so good to feel actual compassion from a person that he wasn't annoyed. It was an odd feeling.

"No, I assure you I'm all human. I'm too tall to be part dwarf," sitting down on the ground near her, she smiled at him brightly.

"Doesn't mean you aren't hairy, Murtagh," she looked at his tunic and then back to his eyes before he gave off a deep laugh. It was the first time he had laughed out loud since he left Eragon. It almost hurt his lungs to do it, but he couldn't help himself. He was free.

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I hope you all like this first chapter. If you do, please review and I'll get another one up as soon as possible!!


	2. Your Father Is?

Disclamer: I do not own any of the characters except Andria and Wydra. Nothing else belongs to me, other then the plot. I give all thanks to Christopher Paolini for writing Eragon so I and many others could fanfic about it!

Okay, some of you guys don't know what the color coral looks like, the color of Wydra's scales. Here is a link to something the exact color I had described, I hope it helps! a couple thought Andria one) was a mary-sue ish name. Or two) thought she was mary-sue ish due to her looks. Well, Andria is the ending of my own name, Alexandria. I though Andria was a very common name, and thought I would like to add a little of myself to the story, but I can see how the odd spelling of the normal Andrea could come off a little mary-sue. Also, I don't want to be mean or sound rude, but I am not one to like when people judge a character before she gets a personality or even a story. I can see how a beautiful girl could be thought of as mary-sue, as many people we see on the street we think of as "mary-sue" when they're too pretty. I just hope you all can see past looks, and look into the heart of this character.

Thank you all for replying, and I hope you continue to read. I'm so happy for your feedback and criticism, and I hope you keep it coming!

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Lying on the hard ground beneath the stars, Murtagh stared up at the twinkling lights surreptitiously while listening to the breathing around him. Wydra, the new found dragon that has made his path more bright, laid a few feet away from him next to the warm fire. The flames flickered off her almost pink-ish scales as she lay with wings covering her Rider. That Rider was the one person that had made Murtagh smile since he was taken to Galbatorix. True, he wasn't really a person to smile and be happy to begin with, but the sheer thought of not having to sit in the direct path his corrupted father took made him ease up a little. 

Andria, the oddly bred girl, lay within the warm confines of her dragon's wings. To most, she seemed an odd kind of beautiful on the outside. The features of an elf stretched across her body, but with hints of a human making her seem more approachable. She was quite disliked when she was "home" with the elves, none of them really accepting her for who she truly was. Part of it was the fact that she couldn't seem to stay on her own two feet most of the time on a flat surface. Another major part was that her freckles made her stick out like a sore thumb, brandishing her looks. No one really ever got to know her, just accepting her as another pretty face in the crowd, thinking she's just another privileged girl who's as shallow as the next. But why does everyone seem to judge skin-deep?

Letting out a small moan, Murtagh rolled on his side to stare into the flames and let his mind wander. Sleep never came to him naturally in his life, thinking always taking up his nights until he passed out from exhaustion. Tonight the topic was this girl, well, this half girl. He knew she was beautiful, that was plain to him as it surely was to anyone who set eyes on her. But she wasn't that natural sort of beauty, the one where people roll their eyes and say she got lucky with her looks. She was that kind of beautiful that was only brought on because she was something new to look at. A challenge to conquer, and it intrigued him to no end to know what lay beneath the pretty features of her skin.

Picking at his fingernails, he wondered if she could possibly turn into an ugly witch in the morning light and take him straight back to the kingdom. Or maybe she'd be just as nice looking, but really something awful in personality. He really wasn't one to like snooty people, or even tolerate them. Murtagh knew well enough that he wasn't someone to easily get along with. He stayed inside himself a lot, thinking about his past and his future. Nothing ever seemed clear to him, not even what had already come to past.

Eyelids fluttering shut, he listened to the deep even breathing of Wydra and drifted off to sleep.

-----

"Murtagh." He heard a soft voice coming from somewhere; his mind still clouded with sleep. Trying to open his eyes, he raised an arm to block out the sunlight that was beaming down at him.

"Murtagh, it's time to get up," the soft female voice came again, making him drop his arm to see Andria crouching next to him. Her hair was still wild from sleep, sticks and mud sticking to the brown tendrils. She looked quite a mess, almost as if she had fallen and rolled down a hill in the woods.

"I'm up, don't worry. Did you sleep well, or did the forest attack you?" He said snidely, hating mornings more then anything. She huffed at him quickly, eyeing him still warily before walking back to Wydra. Murtagh knew well enough she wasn't just going to trust him. Just because he had a scar on his hand and a dragon in the sky, it meant nothing to a stranger who was looking to stay out of trouble. Trust was something that isn't just handed out to anyone.

"If you even care, this is what most women look like after they wake up on the forest floor. I'm no exception. I don't have magical powers to create instant beauty like some elves do." She rolled her eyes as she packed her things, grabbing twigs from her hair and pulling it up with a leather band.

"That's too bad, you could use some of that right now," he smirked, grabbing his bag and cloak from the edge of the woods. Andria blushed a bright pink, muttering under her breath as she tied her hair into a tight bundle at the nape of her neck.

"I'm not trying to impress anyone, so I think I'm okay. Thank you for your crude opinion at this lovely hour," he noticed she didn't really seem like a morning person. Inwardly laughing, he walked over and stroked Wydra's nuzzle. Feeling the vibrations coming off of her, he knew the dragon was laughing.

Without anymore talk of nonsense, he started leading the way into the woods. Andria was slow to catch up, probably starting in a different direction before noticing he went another way. Wydra was in the air somewhere, enjoying the morning warmth against her cool scales. Hearing something that sounded like a moan of pain, he turned to see his new found Rider on her knees in the mud.

"I never would have believed girls could like mud so much," he said, a little to bitterly as he kept walking. Not allowing her to waste any of his precious time, he kept stalking through trees. She caught up with him in a matter of seconds, throwing a bit of mud at his cheek.

"We don't. We also don't like self-absorbed men who think they're too good to help one up when they fall. Sorry to be such a bother but weren't you looking for me? And now you're dragging me off to who knows where and I'm just following because my father always told me to trust a Rider who showed his scar. Now, tell me Murtagh, what exactly have I done wrong this morning other then be myself? I apologize that I have two left feet," she seemed upset, anger blotching her cheeks red as she kept walking briskly next to him. Her emerald eyes stayed forward, the green seemed to darken and cloud as if she were lost in some memory.

"You haven't done anything wrong. Just try not to fall so much, I won't risk anything if you fall in a hole," she shook her head and walked in front of him a few meters, mumbling under her breath. Well, so much for being pleasant friends.

They continued walking, Murtagh listening for the sound of a stream. Thorn had talked to him late last night, saying there was a place they could take refuge until after forging a plan. They knew very well that no Urgals or Galbatorix would start looking for them until after a week was up. They were fortunate to have so much time.

-----

Leather boots slid into the wet mud of the early afternoon, making it harder to navigate their way around. His companion fell more then a few times, covered in mud even before they had been travelling an hour. Murtagh soon realized his hands were full, hope of this creature being perfect and simple were to much of a wish. He got stuck with a klutz who probably could only fight her way out of a pack of Urgals with a pretty bat of the eyelashes. How fantastic.

Soon hearing the light water trickle nearby, he made sure he was taking the right path before leading Andria towards it. Thorn was already waiting, supposedly with lunch as well. Leading the way towards the water, he looked over to see the girl's eyes still off somewhere he obviously wasn't welcome in.

"My dragon will meet us there. He says he's brought meat along," he tried to sound a little nicer then he had earlier in the day, but the annoyance of Andria being a girl instead of a man was in the back of his mind.

"Well, I don't eat meat, but I'll be sure to thank him." She walked ahead of him again, walking through some tall ferns before disappearing into the large valley. As he came through the green canopy, he noticed it was just the perfect size to hide two dragons and their Riders. Thorn had not let them down.

_So, this is the Rider then. Odd that it's a girl, isn't it? _Thorn questioned, eyeing Andria as she set her bags down and wandered closer to him.

_And one with quite a temper at that. Oh, she also can't stand up for more then five minutes before falling down, so we'll have to watch her. Gods knows how she'll learn how to ride Wydra, _he said back, eyeing the girl as she introduced herself to Thorn.

_Wydra, is what? A male or a female? _Thorn was asking Andria that question, but included his Rider in the chat.

_A female, good dragon. She's quite strong for her size, and she won't put up with any bullying. I do hope you're nicer then your Rider. You are a lovely creature, _Murtagh growled in the back of his throat, hearing Thorn chuckle a little to his demise.

He knew well enough that he wasn't the greatest man in the world. There were probably thousands of people better at conversation then him, easily. That gave her no right to just go judging him before he even got a chance to make an impression.

"I do hope you ease up to as our journey goes on. I don't think I can deal with anymore of your girlish mood swings," he snapped, his eyes turning dark as they stared into hers.

"Oh, an eavesdropper. How lovely, well I do hope you plan to get us out of this hole before the Empire comes looking for their most loved servant. I wouldn't try to hide much from me, Rider. I have more knowledge then you know," she looked like she was going to cry, but the emotion was easily placed by numbness as she grabbed her pack and walked off somewhere.

_What? Did you think it was a good idea to tell her who we were? _Murtagh screamed inwardly at his dragon, pacing now in the meadow.

_I didn't tell her anything; she figured that out on her own somehow. Now, why don't you go find her and try to make amends? I'm going to talk to Wydra now, _Thorn snorted, seeing the smaller dragon starting to descend towards the earth.

Walking through the large ivy that laid around them, he heard a faint splash and went in that direction. Both of his hands were balled in fists, trying to control anger and rage that was churning inside of him. About to start screaming as he saw the top of her head, he walked out to see her wrapped in her cloak as she washed her clothes. Seeing a deep scar across her shoulders, his hands relaxed a twinge as he came to her side.

"How did you know?" He managed to spit out, still angry at her for just rushing away from their conversation.

"You have Zar'oc, so you're either Eragon Shadeslayer, or you're not. And you're not. Wow, I am a good puzzle solver. It wasn't hard for me to know who you were when I saw you with Wydra. As soon as I laid eyes on the blood sword, I knew it had rightfully come back to the dark haired son of Morzan's. Poor Eragon never stood a chance with it anyway." Andria pulled out her wet leggings, shaking them before laying them over a tree branch. Her left hand never left it's death grip on the cloak that was acting as her only means of coverage.

"How do you know my swords name? How do you know about my family, and why would it matter to you?" He was mad, more then mad he was irate. He wanted to hit something, wondering how in the hell she learned so much information about him when most didn't even know it themselves.

"My father wrote me a lot when he traveled. Telling me about people he met, people he trained. Your name came up a little, and he knew who you were as soon as he saw you. How couldn't he? He was the one who killed your father," his teeth unclenched, his fists stopped throbbing, and he almost sunk to the ground on his knees.

"Your father was…"

"Yes, my father was Brom. I am terribly sorry that he had to die with you so nearby. Too bad for that poor man, I'm surprised he even trusted you. After your bastard of a father killed Saphira my father was lost, almost ready to off himself before he met my mother. The elven Goddess of savior, he always called her. Then they had me, as much as a surprise to anyone as well as themselves. It wasn't suppose to happen, it wasn't meant to be. But I was born, my mother dying at my birth, and I was left with letters and brief visits with the one person who didn't hate me. Oh yes Murtagh, I know your life is horrible in means I wouldn't understand. Though, you can't cloud others lives just because you think yours is worse." This time he could hear the crying in her voice.

He hadn't meant for it to go this far. He hadn't meant for her to even know any of this about himself. Now his life was open like a book, waiting for her to flip through and find out the secrets he never wanted anyone to know. And now she had opened hers to any questions he might have had. But at that moment he didn't have anything to say, he just ran back towards the small pond by the dragons and dove straight into the water before he passed out from something he only took as shock.


	3. Beauty Is In The Eyes Of The Beholder

Disclaimer: Wydra and Andria are mine, also anything else you don't recognize. Everything else is owned by the brilliant Christopher Paolini.

I know the link didn't show up in my last post, so if you really want to know what color Wydra is, please search "the color coral" on Google. Otherwise, it's kind of a pink, but more orange. Hope that helps.

Also, I'm sorry about any spelling or grammar mistakes I may have made in the last chapter and if there are any in here. I'm doing this really early in the morning, 5 am right now, and I may not have the best judgement.

For the one comment I got so far, I promise to try and update at least twice a week. I'm really busy with life, so I hope I can at least give you this. And also, thanks for giving Andria a chance, it really makes me happy!

Read on, oh faithful readers :) Please review too, I'll only write if I get reviews!

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Three days passed without much on anyone's minds except, well, staying away from the other person. Ever since Murtagh stepped back out of the pond after the realization of Andria knowing his true identity, he didn't feel like talking much. Mostly brooding, or talking to Thorn, he sat near the water and ate in silence everyday. There was a lot to figure out, and his brain was moving terribly slow for some reason. When he got too frustrated with sitting around, he would refasten Thorn's saddle or practice sword movements in the silent air. He missed listening even to a companion's annoying girlish mood swings before a day was over. Company was something he had been missing since he left Eragon.

Andria seemed to bottle up herself quite a bit as well, only talking to Wydra or Thorn. Wydra wasn't much help, just telling her to apologize and act like nothing had happened. Too much had happened, he knew about her past and that scared her beyond reason. No one knew whom she really was, no one wanted to. If he did, then that was something else she had screwed up in her life. Also, the impending fear of upsetting Murtagh more kept her from trying to break the silence. The two stubborn people kept a large distance between one another, not even setting eyes on one another.

Late in the afternoon, as the sun began to melt into the horizon, Murtagh was skipping stones across the once motionless water and kept speculating his life. Thinking of ways to get back on the Varden's good side, ways of making Eragon trust him again, and a way to make sure there wasn't any unessecary tension between him and the new Rider. He didn't want them to be like enemies in the first place, he just wasn't much of a people person. Clearly afraid he had already ruined any chance of friendship, he threw another stone until Thorn spoke in his deep voice.

_Murtagh, you must move past this wall you_'_ve built between yourself and the girl-elf. It isn't doing anything but putting tension on this camp. She's terribly afraid you're just going to take her back to the Empire, _he spoke, knowing all of Andria's thoughts from the past days. Looking up into Thorn's wise eyes, he shook his head and looked back to the navy water.

_I don't know if I can, she knows too much already. What if she wants more? I can't deal with letting all my own walls down just to make some girl I don't know happy, _he growled back at his friend, throwing a rock into the water with no hope of it skipping across.

_You like pain don't you? _Before Murtagh could answer with a snide comment, he heard a loud scream coming from the direction of where Andria had been camping. It sounded like a scream of pain or terror, something he never wanted to hear out of her lips. Rushing off without even thinking about the wall he had built between them, he had to make sure the danger would stop now before anything horrible happened. He wasn't going to lose his freedom again.

Sliding past the large oak where she slept, he saw her lying on the ground with an arrow sticking out of her shoulder blade. She was grabbing at it deftly, rolling to protect Wydra from anymore-stray arrows that came her way. Sprinting over as fast as his feet could carry him, he crouched down in front of them both and looked into the worried eyes of a girl he wanted to know.

"What in the God's names happened?" He said quietly, barely a whisper. Looking around the surrounding area, he couldn't see anyone clearly. Staring back into Andria's eyes, he could see the pain she was keeping in as warm blood flowed from her wound.

"I don't know. I was just sitting here, eating grapes, and then I got shot. My life is just wretched, you know," she gave him a tiny smile, trying to make sure he knew she wasn't going to die anytime soon.

"Mine isn't any paradise either, Andria. Now, do you know who shot at you?" He gave her the best grin he could, but he knew she wouldn't believe it.

"I haven't seen a single creature around here all day, not even since we got here. It's been quiet," a tear escaped her emerald orbs, and he felt guilt shooting through him for leaving her alone.

"We're going to have to get out of here—" before he could finish, another arrow landed right next to his left boot. Looking up once more, he could see someone, definitely human, stringing another arrow.

"How can we get out of here fast enough? We don't have horses!" She was getting frantic, standing up before slipping back down to her knees again in the dewy grass. Helping her up, he told Wydra to take to the air and that her Rider would be safe. She had to be safe.

Running back to Thorn with Andria only a few feet behind him, he gathered all their packs and tied them to his dragon's belly. The saddle had stayed on his back, Murtagh not ever taking it off always in case of emergencies. He silently patted himself on the back as he jumped into the saddle and looked down to the scared girl.

"Come on, we have to leave before you die!" He shouted knowing how irrational he probably sounded. Thrusting a hand out to her, low enough for her to grab, he tried to make sure he wasn't going to fall off Thorn's back. She looked up at him with a look that only could mean she thought he was insane.

"I don't know how to ride a dragon yet, I'll fall off," she stated skeptically, looking at his hand as if it were on fire. Hearing another arrow whip through the air, he threw his hand in her face one more time and she took it barely before the arrow hit the ground.

"If you want, close your eyes. This might be a little frightening your first time," she nodded her head, letting him enclose his arms around her waist. Thorn shot up from the ground like a bullet, keeping his wings to his sides so the air wouldn't catch them. When they were high enough above the clouds, his large wings stretched out and began to pull through the air as quickly as they could.

"Where are we going?" Andria asked, much calmer then he thought she would be. He noticed her hand reaching back to the arrow again, trying her best to rip it out of her skin.

"I have no idea, but you better leave that in if you don't want to bleed to death," he could feel her sigh deeply, before giving up. Thorn suddenly took a sharp dive and he could feel her hands cover his in terror. Laughing to himself, she was holding onto him as if she were going to fall to the earth and turn into mush if she didn't dig her nails into him.

"Please, Thorn, don't do that," she said almost inaudibly, her heart beating so fast it threatened to escape her chest.

_Oh, Andria. You must understand that we dragon's do as we like. I'll keep you safe, but you better release my Rider's hands before you injure him further, _listening to Thorn, Murtagh had almost forgotten that her nails were still imbedded deeply in his hands.

"You can ease off, I won't let you fall. I promise," he said in her ear, making sure his voice was steady and calm so she would trust him. She slowly let go of her death grip, letting her hands fall back to the tops of her thighs.

"Okay, but I know I'm going to feel a lot of pain when we land. Blood's already dribbling down my thighs," she said through clenched teeth, making him understand that she was digging her nails into him for sheer lack of needed release.

"You'll be alright. Ask me a question, keep your mind off of all the pain you're in," as soon as the words left his mouth, his mentally smacked himself. See, this is what being a nice guy got you. Unwanted questions.

"Okay, you're favorite color?" She muttered, gripping at her legs to try and stop the bleeding. He was caught off guard, staring at the side of her face as she looked off into the clouds.

"Um, well, red." He muttered, watching her nod.

"Favorite thing to eat?" She stated again, making him wonder if she knew he didn't want to be asked anything too personal.

"Probably fresh pork, but I don't really have a favorite as long as it's warm," he smirked, remembering a feast he had once ate in the past.

"Okay, you ask me something. I'm out of questions," she seemed like she was telling the truth, her body trembling in the cool sky around her.

"Best memory?" So this is what talking was like, and he actually didn't hate it as much as he thought he would. But this was not going to be a regular thing, he was just helping her through the pain. That's at least what he kept telling himself.

"When my dad came home with my first sword. It was small enough to fit in my hands, I only being eight years old at the time. It was a shimmering gold, much like his had been back then. We would fight all day and night while he was home, laughing more then actually striking towards one another. He always brought me home a new sword. My last was a deep coral, the same color as Wydra. He probably knew," she reminisced, staring off into the fluffy clouds as her voice got softer.

"Brom was a really nice old man," he said quietly, trying to let her know he had no hard feelings against him for killing his father.

"Yes, he was. Well then, I guess we should be quiet now before one of us yells at the other," she stated sarcastically, but he knew it was for the best.

Going back within himself, he started to wonder why she even told him. Andria hadn't dared ask anything of his past, not even of his future. And he went right to her heart and gave it a little jab of her painful past. She was a complex creature, but he knew well enough that she wasn't trying to upset him. He didn't even give her that courtesy.

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Landing well after the sun went down, they both slumped off of Thorn into the dark woods. No one cared to ask where they were, they didn't really want to know. Murtagh helped Andria down from the saddle and carried her carefully to a safe area on the ground. He could tell by the cringing on her face that she was either in a lot of pain, or him touching her was the problem.

"You get the arrow out of me, I'll worry about my legs," she muttered sadly, as if not wanting to face the scars that would hurt her image to elves more. He obeyed, not wanting to fight in their tired state.

Taking a strong hold on the arrow, he removed it as quickly as he could to not tear too much more tissue. She yelped a little, and he knew she wanted to scream more then that. Placing his hand over the wound, he quickly repaired it as best he could with magic. Coming back around, he noticed her bare legs sticking out from under her skirts, and he looked away bashfully as if seeing her naked.

"I'm sorry, I'll go," he started to walk off before he heard her tell him to come back. Feeling very uncomfortable about the situation, he shook his head.

"Murtagh, please, I just need you to take my leggings and get them wet enough to remove some of the blood. Also, could you get me a wet cloth?" He grudgingly went back, leaving his eyes up towards the sky as he felt the silk tights land in his hand.

"I can do that, yes," he mumbled, hoping she could feel how unpleasant he felt.

"I'm sorry you had to see my legs, I know they're nothing pleasing to look at. I'm sorry if I made you upset," she thought he was sickened by her appearance. That the bleeding scabs were the reason he couldn't look at her. Holding himself together, he looked back into the eyes of the self-conscious girl.

"Trust me, it isn't anything bad to look at. I'm just, well, I must go," before he said anything to humiliate himself further, he ran off to find water.

_Ha ha ha, that was quite amusing hatchling, _Thorn laughed, making Murtagh more angry with himself.

_So glad I could be your entertainment. I just didn't want her to think she was making me sick by her appearance, I have a feeling she's gotten enough of that, _he shot back, trying to cover up his utter embarrassment. He had never been good around girls when he was growing up. He remembered trying to kiss a slave girl he knew, and missing completely. A bruise was on his forehead for weeks, and he would never forget that. Murtagh knew he'd always be bad at making any girl feel…well…like a girl.

Washing out the green stockings as best he could, and getting a cloth wet, he stalked back to where Andria was sitting. Her legs were now only laced with a few scars and dry blood, all the scabs and gashes gone. He kept the heat from rising to his face by keeping his eyes staring into hers.

"Thank you, for everything. I'm glad you're not going to hate me because I have body imperfections. I like humans more and more everyday," she smiled shyly, grabbing her leggings and pulling them back over her porcelain legs hastily. Letting his eyes wander back to the sky, he groaned inwardly. Still regretting that this relationship would be strained because she was a girl, he looked back down at her again after she was completely covered.

"I will never judge you by anything on your body. I only care about who you are. I've dealt with enough judging in my life, I won't be one to give it back too quickly. I'm sorry you even thought I was rushing away because you thought I couldn't take the sight of you. I promise, there isn't anything wrong with how you look," about to kill himself, he knew he was throwing himself into something he didn't want. All his words were coming out wrong and he could hear Thorn laughing. Murtagh really hated girls.

"Oh, okay. Thanks, Murtagh... I think it's time to sleep." She walked back to where Wydra had finally landed and looked back at him once more, her cheeks a flaming red and looking almost upset.

Great, now he sounded like he thought she was beautiful. Well, she was, but not in the way he made it sound. He truly wanted nothing to do with her, she was simply his means of freedom. The sooner they got to the Varden, the sooner he could start trying to forget her.


	4. I Can't Always Be Alone

Disclaimer: Only the plot and the characters you don't recognize are owned by me. The rest is owned by Mr. Paolini, a brilliant man who created the Inheritance Trilogy.

Thanks for all the reviews, and in response to you comment F**auna Natura, **you'll find out that answer in this chapter ;)

Hope y'all continue to read and enjoy!!

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Staring up at the dark cloudy sky, Murtagh knew today, Galbatorix would be sending out another pack of unruly, monstrous Urgals. A lot of hiding would be ahead for the two Riders, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Recently they had been travelling north for a few weeks, hoping to spot the Varden somewhere nearby. They had left after the battle and were heading somewhere that Murtagh did not know. It was all about guessing now, and he had to make sure he made all the good guesses.

Andria and he were on better terms, talking during the day as they walked through brush. Keeping himself as distant as possible, he let a smile escape every once in a while. Repeatedly telling himself that he wasn't enjoying her company, all she was…was the escape plan. If Andria had turned out to be a man, he'd be much more fortunate because the chance of falling in love wouldn't even be possible. With all the denial of any feelings towards her, good or bad, he was putting himself in a hole full of overflowing emotions that screamed in his head constantly.

As a drop of rain landed on his cheek, he glared at the grey thunderbolt filled clouds. Sitting up slowly, his constant thinking mind never slowed as he stared over at Thorn. His blood-red dragon was matching his own expression, a scowl falling over the scales. The storm was going to be large, that much he knew, but he didn't know how large it was going to be.

Looking back towards the sky, a coral streak was plummeting to the ground before coming parallel to it. Wydra soon set her large talons in the grass and settled in comfortably. She shook her now small dog sized head so the water droplets she collected would spatter off. The young dragon was getting near riding size, and he knew Andria was getting impatient.

Scanning his eyes across the land, he didn't see the elf-girl anywhere nearby. She had said she was going off to bathe, seeing she hadn't the chance since they left their last slightly permanent camp. That had been three weeks ago. When they stopped in a small town on their way here, she bought new travelling clothes because hers had been ruined dismally after falling into a muddy hole. Hearing the tree branches move in the otherwise still afternoon, he turned around to see her emerge.

"I think I finally have all the mud out of my ears," she stated loudly, walking towards him as he stared unintentionally. Her green leather tunic laid tightly against her lithe body, showing the tiniest bit of curve she had in her breasts and hips. Black leggings seemingly molded to her strong legs, disappearing under the green skirts she wore. Finally she stopped in front of him, dropping down onto her knees with her boots still in her hands.

"Well, that sounds pleasant," he said suddenly, remembering he had been spoken too. Her emerald eyes smiled at him as she took the long tendrils of hair around her face and laced them with a leather band behind her head.

"It is, actually. I see a storms coming," she stated obviously, pointing towards the sky as more drops began to fall. He nodded slowly, still staring at her face as he thought about letting even a little bit of his feelings out towards her. Then abruptly thought against it.

"Unfortunately, it seems inevitable." She nodded back, taking her sword and placing it around her hips once more. Watching intently as she laced her boots up her calves, he knew his heart was aching between attraction towards Andria and having desires. He would not give in.

"I guess we should take some of the packs down from Thorn and get our cloaks, we don't need to get soaked," agreeing with her, Murtagh stood up and held out a hand. She took it with a small grin on her lips, and he felt an unwelcome tingle down his spine as he lifted her off the ground.

Walking towards Thorn, he kept his distance behind Andria as she went to untie the straps beneath the great dragon's belly.

_Hello, young Rider, _Wydra's soft female voice eased his mind as it always did. She had some way of making every worry in his body just dissipate as soon as she spoke. It made him feel calm.

_Hello Wydra, _he answered, still staring towards Andria and Thorn.

_You know, staring isn't polite, _the dragon laughed, making him break out of the trance he was in. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he turned and looked over at the large dragon that stood in complete opposite of Thorn. She was beautiful and very approachable, his dragon darker and a bit intimidating.

_I was just thinking, my eyes went out of focus for a moment. Did you need something? _Murtagh was trying not to sound snippy with her, never wanting to lose his temper with any of his new friends. He didn't need to lose any trust that he may have gained over the last couple weeks.

_Of course, hatchling. She trusts you, fully and unwillingly. This isn't something she just gives out Murtagh. If you dare hurt Andria in anyway, I may have to take you apart piece by piece with my own teeth, _she smiled her gleaming white fangs, and he realized she could be quite scary when she wanted to.

_I believe you, no doubt. _Walking forward to the elf-girl and his best friend, he took his black cloak from a bag that was sitting on the ground. Tying it under his chin, he suddenly realized how soaked he had gotten over the last few minutes. Looking back over to Andria, her hair was dripping and her cheeks were red with some excitement he didn't know. She looked exhilarated.

"Don't you love the rain? It's soothing, the soft drops landing on different objects making music with the forest that you can't find anywhere else. I remember being back home in Ellesmera, just sitting in one of the windows of my willow tree. The rain would fall down in front of me blurring the world to make it seem like I was alone. No one could hurt me, no one could see the flaws on my skin. I was content with being myself when it rained, I always have been." Her long eyelashes were now dripping with the storm and her eyes were glittering brighter then he had ever seen them. He felt an urge to reach out and touch her, just to make sure she was real.

"I love the rain now," he muttered quietly, his old scowl now replaced with a tiny grin trying to enlarge against his mouth.

"It makes everything beautiful, doesn't it?" She carried on, not hearing what he had whispered moments prior. Murtagh was staring again, wishing the spell she must have cast on him would finally let up and allow him to think clearly. All he could think about was her.

"Murtagh?" He heard her voice break through another spaced out moment, and before he could answer he felt a soft slop of mud hit him right between the eyes.

"Do you have some great pleasure of flinging mud at me?" He smiled, remembering the first time she threw it at him.

"Actually, I think I do. You covered in mud makes me very—ah! How dare you!" She said with mock anger as wet mud slid down her cheek. He saw her bend down, grabbing more mud with a pale hand and he took off running.

Andria was faster then he thought, but he still kept in front of her pretty well. He was dodging through trees, the storm forgotten in this stage of euphoria he had never felt. For the first time in his life, he felt alive and happy. He didn't care about hiding it anymore, he had to let go before he exploded. He was completely free.

Suddenly hearing a scream, he knew Andria had fallen somewhere. Making his way back, he saw her laying face down in the dirt and started laughing. His chuckling was deep and alien, but it stopped abruptly when he noticed she wasn't moving. Rushing over quickly, he bent down to turn her over when she reached up and grabbed his wrist. Flipping him onto the ground, she sat on his stomach and smeared two muddy hands on his face and into his hair.

Giving her the same mock anger she had displayed moments before, he flipped her under him and wiped at his face with the clean back of his hands. She was laughing, and he could feel the vibrations of each musical giggle in his legs as he straddled her hips carefully.

"This, is not amusing in the least," he knew he was smiling widely as he said it, wiping his dirty hands on his tunic to cleanse them.

"Oh, I beg to disagree. I haven't felt more awake or alive since my dad was still breathing," she smiled under him, looking up at him through her eyelashes. She was pulling at his heartstrings again, making him lean towards her without even knowing it.

"I'm glad covering myself in mud could bring you such joy," he grinned again, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the unusual stretches of smiling.

"I'm glad too. Ah, to know such a small thing could make me this happy…you may be covered in the black goop more often if I hit a sudden emotional slump," she smiled again, her white teeth coming out to bite her bottom lip as he leaned even closer.

As Murtagh neared cheek to cheek, he could smell a distinct air of flowers and something that could only be described as her own scent. He inhaled deeply, losing all thoughts of not doing anything about feelings he may have been gaining, or ignoring her completely. It wasn't going to happen.

"I'm happy I can make you smile," he whispered in her ear, getting an involuntary shiver from her body as his eyes found hers.

"Murtagh…" she said quietly, looking right back into his eyes as his clean hands found her face. The rough pads of his thumbs glided against her cheekbones, over her eyelids, across the points of her ears, and hesitantly over her rose lips. Her mouth opened in response, a deep sigh coming from it.

Feeling her hands find his own face, he suddenly felt all the wanting of space come back in a rush that was almost unbearable. Soft delicate fingers traced every line and small scar that lay against his skin, brushing down his strong nose and against his neck. He had never felt anything like this, as if she knew everything that he was hiding and didn't care.

"I need you to know, there are things I can't ever tell you. Things that you could easily hate me for," he whispered, not wanting to break the moment as his eyes opened again to stare into the intensity of hers.

"And I need you to promise me that you won't hate me for anything in my past," she said back quietly, accepting what he said.

"I could never hate you," he said more to himself then her, and he leaned in past the small barrier that was being kept and blocked out the first try of kissing a girl.

His lips found hers, and almost pulled back immediately at the warmth he didn't think to find there. She tasted of sugar and cinnamon, making his lips tingle more with want that he didn't need. Her hands laced in his hair and he moved his lips softly with hers until he needed to breathe and pulled back. Staring back down into the eyes he couldn't escape, he saw tears in the creases.

"I'm sorry, I'm just scared," she smiled, raising her hand to wipe at her eyes but he stopped her. Wiping the crystals away from her face, he ran a hand through her long bronze hair.

"Don't worry, I'm terrified. You are making me feel things, and I'm very against that," he smiled again, trying to get use to this. She giggled softly, before flipping him on his back again and sat atop him.

"Well, if we are both scared to hell with this, it's okay. I'm really horrible with letting people know things about my past," she said with a small smile, tracing a finger on his skin.

Even as she sat on top of him, and he stared at her angelic face, he couldn't believe any of this was happening. Murtagh was a loner, someone who wouldn't let anyone in, a man who didn't think anything of anyone else. It was about keeping his back safe, watching out only for himself. Now his guard was down, he had let feelings he had gained out with a force he didn't tend to use. All he could promise himself now was that he wouldn't fall in love with her. But with the thought of how little he lasted with not letting her know he liked her, he didn't feel like he would have a chance if he actually did fall that deep.

About to give her another comment that would make this moment last a little longer, his eyes widened in fear as a sword tip rested itself on Andria's shoulder. She didn't flinch, but her eyes moved towards it and back to his with worry resting in the green orbs. Suddenly, without caution, she flipped on her back and protected him to whoever was standing over them. He didn't like this, he was meant to be on top guarding her.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Andria shouted, her hand edging near her sword as the culprit came into view. Murtagh had to hold himself together not to gasp and the elf-girl atop him stiffened as if in apology to use such manner of voice to this person.

"Did you know you've been galloping around with a member of the Empire?" The deep voice said, his sword still resting in front of him.

"Yes, I'm quite aware that I've been travelling with Murtagh. He has brought me no pain and is helping me seek the Varden. You should drop your sword if you don't want a fight, Eragon Shadeslayer," she spat at him, making the man under her actually feel a little scared. For his brother…not her. He had never heard such a voice from her.

"Maybe I seek a fight, elf. But I doubt you would be any match," he said, his voice wary as if really hoping she didn't engage in a fight at all. He knew Eragon better then that, the boy didn't want to have the possibility of hurting anyone.

"I'm not an elf, and I have no doubt at all that I could have you on your back in only minutes. We did have the same trainer after all," with that she launched at him with the coral sword pulled from its sheath.

Metal clanged and clashed in the quiet woods as the rain continued to pour down on them. Murtagh was on his feet, watching them strike back and forth easily forgetting what had happened moments before. He wasn't sure who to help, his brother or Andria. Hearing a noise behind him, he turned quickly to see a blonde man standing with a bow strung and pointed towards him. Recognizing his face from weeks ago at the valley, he went behind a tree and heard the arrow strike the wood. A female scream was let out as Thorn's large teeth grabbed the man's shirt and lifted him into the air.

"Roran!" Eragon shouted, his eyes still not coming away from the fight with Andria. The other Rider's blue eyes scanned to see if he could get the creature on her back, and found a weak spot by her ankle. Pulling it out beneath her, her sword came up and blocked him again as she landed on her butt. When he went to strike again, he stopped after hearing a loud growl behind him.

"Wydra, don't!" Andria shouted, her dragon snarling at Eragon as he stood up and forgot about what he was doing. His eyes stared at the large dragon as the creature next to him stood up and guarded her dragon now from the Shadeslayer.

"Is this yours?" He asked, disbelief in his voice as he stared at the dragon in front of him.

"Yes. Now, you're either going to help Murtagh and I get to the Varden, or my father will come back from the dead and smack you in the face. He would be quite disappointed if you left the last Rider wandering around the woods," she said with venom in her voice, making Eragon look back at his older brother.

"And why would your dead father care what I do?" He asked, putting both of his hands in his pockets. Eragon gave a glare back, making sure she knew he didn't care who she was related to.

"Because Brom wanted me to come to you when my egg hatched. If he knew you left his daughter in the open forest with a member of the Empire and didn't take her back to the Varden, he'd be disappointed," the shock that graced his face couldn't be helped.

"Why should we take him?" He asked, trying to act like he still didn't care who her father was.

"He wants to gain your trust back, and he's helped me this far. I don't want him to be hurt, and I want you to let him explain his case to you and Nasuada. Otherwise I'll go to the Empire with my dragon, and meet you on the battlefield." Murtagh felt his chest tighten a little at her words, never having anyone who really cared what happened to him other then Eragon. And that had been lost. Looking back to his brother, he waited an answer.

"Well then, the Last Rider has been born."


	5. Love Is The Worst Kind Of Trouble

Disclaimer: Paolini owns all except the plot and characters you don't recognize.

One reviewer was confused by my use of "creature" during the Andria/Eragon fight. I used the word creature as in the thoughts of what Eragon was seeing her as. Before the fight, he thought her an elf and she clearly stated she wasn't, so he didn't know what to make of her. Thus, he thought of her as a creature. Sorry for the confusion!!!

Also, this chapter, and a few throughout the story, is in Andria's POV. I need to give her thoughts on things somewhat too, so you'll get to know her.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter, it'll be the last fluffy one for some time, so please endure it while you have it!

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The fight had ended, she could feel a sharp pain in her sword arm, and Murtagh was staring at Eragon. Andria was glad she got the Shadeslayer to stop the fight, but wasn't happy that he had interrupted a moment that she might never get again. It had taken her almost two months to get Murtagh to show her any kind of emotion, and now Eragon, some boy she now knew as Roran, and a girl that had walked through the trees were all here to ruin it.

Staring at Eragon now, she realized how unlike Murtagh he looked. Brown hair around a chiseled face, large blue eyes filled with nothing but openness, and he seemed like he could talk to her without anything to hide. He was beautiful, there wasn't any question in that, but he didn't share the same beauty as the boy she was really starting to like. Murtagh had that dark, brooding, never knowing what he's going to do way about him that made you want more. It scared her that she wanted more.

"Okay, now that we've established that I don't need to hurt anybody to get you to cooperate, who…and what I guess, are you?" Eragon stated, breaking her out of her trance. He had elfin features himself; his ears pointed and eyes slanted ever so slightly. She realized he went through the transformation.

"My name is Andria, and I'm part elf, part human. Who are your friends?" Looking over to Roran, she noticed he shared some of the same features of Eragon, but the girl looked horribly out of place.

"Roran is my cousin, and Katrina is his girlfriend. We're coming back from the Raz'ac." Full lips drew downward as if bad memories just filled his mind again. She was right, Eragon was much too easy to read. Murtagh, on the other hand, was only now walking forward and his eyes were as blank as ever.

Thorn started lowering his large head, carefully setting Roran back on the ground to a panicky Katrina. Andria was very nervous about how everyone was going to perceive her, and how much they were going to ask. Her past, and her mind, were the only sanctuaries she had. If they dared to puncture them, she would have to flee.

"Eragon," Murtagh said, now standing next to her stiffly. Looking over at him out of the corner of her eye, she missed the sense of happiness he had on his face only minutes before. Why did everything get lost when she was around? She was convinced she had a curse.

"Murtagh," the Rider said back acidly, yet she could sense the joy to see him again in the back of his voice. She wondered if his brother had noticed.

"It's nice to meet you, Katrina. I always like having other girls around." None of that was true, Andria was just trying to make sure this girl knew she meant no harm. It wasn't her fault the men she was travelling with enjoyed attacking her.

"Um, yes, glad to meet you too," Andria suddenly felt self-conscious, the girl staring at her ears as she spoke every word. Back to this again.

Hearing a loud noise behind her, she turned to see a beautiful shimmering blue dragon land on the ground feet away. The sight was overwhelming; the descriptions her father had given her didn't live up to the gorgeous creature that now stood before her. Walking forward, everyone's eyes following her, she smiled at the lovely Saphira.

_Hello handsome, dragon, _she said in her mind, large sapphire eyes now resting with hers.

_Greetings, hatchling. _Saphira said softly back, the smooth female voice bringing a smile to her face. Reaching out a hand tentatively, she brushed the dragons muzzle and continued staring into her eyes.

_Saphira, my father told me so much about you. It's almost like I already know you, _now she could see the dragon smiling slightly, her fangs showing.

_Brom liked to tell his stories. Dear girl, you may want to return to your camp. The boys are waiting, _with one more brush to Saphira's nose; she turned and noticed that Eragon and Murtagh were both staring at her. She also noticed the large distance they kept between one another, enough to fit Thorn comfortably within.

"Your dragon is beautiful, Eragon," she smiled, seeing Eragon's lips twitch a little as well. No one was up to smiling anymore except her. This wasn't going well.

"As is yours. Wydra is such a unique shade," Wydra enjoyed that, and she could feel the pride coming from her dragon.

"Well, you all are welcome to set up camp. We can go to the Varden tomorrow I'm hoping," getting a nod from Eragon, she watched Murtagh suddenly stalk off back into the trees.

"We can't trust him, not after what he did!" Roran shouted after Murtagh's footsteps were no longer heard. He seemed red in the face, and his eyes flickered over towards Andria as she glared.

"I don't know if I should trust you either. You tried to kill me weeks ago if I remember correctly," the older boy looked slightly embarrassed as his eyes found the ground.

"I had mistaken you for something else," he muttered guiltily, putting a boot in the mud.

"Would love to know what sometime, but I need to go find Murtagh," as Andria started to go off, she got cut-off when Eragon flashed in front of her again. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to say what he wanted.

"You know, my brother can't be easily trusted. He went off to join the Empire after being welcomed to the Varden and fought me in a battle. I had trusted him too, and it didn't turn out well," his blue eyes gave her sympathy, as if Murtagh had already scorned her.

"Well, it seems like you haven't lost all trust if you're still calling him a brother. Also, you need to hear his story before judging. I hope we can be friends, Rider, but if we can't…I'll still be on his side," leaving him behind once again, she went off to find Murtagh.

Tripping a few times, cuts now on her hands and knees, she made her way through the woods. Sliding in mud and feeling the rain still falling on her head, she daydreamed back to what had happened before the others had arrived.

When they lay there in the mud, she didn't expect anything to happen. Her heart began to race, her blood boiled in her veins as he sat atop her, but she believed if she didn't do anything, he wouldn't either. As he began to lean in, her breath caught in her throat and she was positive by now he could hear her rapid pulse. During the moments his rough, callused fingers roamed her face, she knew he could feel the heat coming from her skin.

All the while he tried to move on with his feelings, she knew what she wanted him to do. Though, when slightly warm lips touched hers and the shock went through her body, she wasn't sure if she wasn't just asleep. When she breathed in as his lips stayed with hers, she could taste the spiciness of his mouth and indulged herself in it. Then it was over.

---

Making her way through a few more trees, she stopped when she could see him sitting on a tree that had fallen over. Staring at his dark shadow, she could feel a fear and tears building up as she thought he was gone. The Murtagh that rolled in the mud with her wasn't coming back. Though, she wasn't always right.

"Do you enjoy staring?" He said deeply, turning as a strike of lighting illuminated his face. Both things made her jump, and she watched as he patted the tree trunk area next to him. Walking over slowly, she threw a leg over the log and then settled next to him while staring at her feet.

"I was just thinking, don't get use to it," she said back, making him nod slowly, his eyes off somewhere else.

"So, what do you make of Eragon?" He asked nonchalantly, turning to stare into her eyes as he spoke.

"He seems harmless, but my dad did say he wasn't keen on making good choices all the time. I guess he seems…nice?" She raised an eyebrow and a small chuckle came from Murtagh's throat.

"You are really bad for me, did you know that?" He muttered, back to his cold distant self, making her wonder if it was a rhetorical question or not. His eyes had landed on his hands, and she was left looking into the deep brown locks of his hair.

"I'm sorry," Andria said quietly back, about to lift her legs to go. Before she could move though, one warm hand grabbed hers and she looked back into his eyes.

"I tend to enjoy danger, but I didn't really mean it like that. I just mean you get me to say and do things I wouldn't normally do. I've always been in a shell, hiding from the world and only watching my back. Then you came into my life and I got caught off guard, hoping that you're safe and never even worrying about myself anymore. You make me feel alive, in a way. I just feel like I can actually have feelings when you're around," he smiled a heartbreaking crooked smile, and her heart leapt in her chest.

"Oh," she murmured with her hand clammy in his. Rain continued to pour down onto them, realizing she probably looked like a drowned rat at that moment.

"Oops, I think I'm squeezing all of the blood out of your body," he said suddenly, turning her hand over that he was holding. She forgot about the gashes she had on her palms, and they looked worse then she thought as he grabbed her other hand.

"Yeah, I fell," Andria muttered again, her heart becoming her worst enemy fast.

"I assumed. You need to learn how to walk," she laughed at this, all nerves leaving her suddenly. Murtagh held her hands under the rain, letting them clean themselves with the water. After the blood finished leaking from her wounds, he ran his own hands over them and healed them with magic.

"I can do magic, you know. I'm not some dumb elf," she said sarcastically, hearing that booming laugh she had feared she wouldn't hear again. Everything seemed perfect in the emerald forest with rain falling around them.

"That, I knew too. You're far too…" Murtagh cut himself off quickly, an alien blush rising in his cheeks as she stared at him intently.

"I'm far too…what?" Her heart thumped hard again, making her worry about something she didn't know.

"Pretty to be an elf," he said so quietly she barely heard him at all. With all the reactions she could have had, all the emotions that could have run through her, she snorted. Literally, like some pig, snorted. Covering her face as if just revealing some horrible secret, Murtagh laughed and released one of her hands to run his against her cheek.

"Sorry, I have no idea where that came from. My inner pig usually keeps itself under control," smiling completely humiliated, all train of thought disappeared when he smiled with only his eyes at her. Heat had to be radiating off of her as he pulled her closer to him.

"You really don't know how to take compliments do you?" He said, his hand that had been on her face now rubbing along the point of her ear. She cringed at the touch, wishing she had the normal human roundness and not the protruding sharpness.

"Haven't really ever had one, so I'll work on taking them properly. Why, may I ask, are you touching my ear?" The blush in her cheeks and the horror she felt inside as his tough fingers laid against the point, he leaned in and rested his forehead against hers.

"I actually don't know, and why I'm acting like a lovesick boy, I don't have an answer to that one either. Have you used your magic on me?" He smirked, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh as she continued staring at his lips.

"Don't know that spell, sorry. When we reach the Varden, are you going to leave—" before finishing her sentence, his warm spiced lips laid against hers again and she relaxed instantly. Two strong arms coiled their way around her hips and his hand rubbed the bottom of her back.

Andria couldn't think, couldn't comprehend, couldn't do anything but kiss him back. Her hands felt so foreign as they fanned against his hard chest. The leather felt cold and wet on his tunic as her mouth opened with his. As one of his hands touched the skin that had escaped between her skirts and tunic, she gasped and she felt his lips turn into a cocky smirk as he pulled back with a few soft kisses on her cheeks and forehead.

"I won't leave you," he whispered against her temple, hugging her close so she could rest her head against his shoulder.

"If you do, I'll come after you and kick you in the shins repeatedly," she could feel a soft chuckle as his body vibrated against her.

"I'll remember that. So, while we're being all cute and so mushy I almost want to vomit, tell me one secret and I'll give you one. We're going to have to trust one another if we're going to continue—"

"Kissing in the woods? Oh yes, our secret lives are so devious," he pulled back to look down at her again, brushing his lips against hers so softly she had to keep her eyes open to know he did it.

"If we're going to continue kissing in the woods, yes. You go first, I have to think of one that won't get me kicked in the shins," she watched him go back in himself, that brooding face covering her favorite smiling one. She knew he'd never be so open all the time, so she was just happy he was there. There was a great possibility they'd be torn apart soon, and she wasn't going to waste any time.

"Okay then. When I was twelve, I was living with an elf named Oromis. He and my father had spoken about finding the next Rider, that being Eragon at the time, so I had gone to his house a lot. While I lived there, he taught me everything he could about being a Rider just in case my father was right and his hunch of me following in his footsteps came true. During that time, many of the elves that were my age, in the elven sense, became jealous. They threw rocks at me while I practiced, taunted me about how flawed I looked, yelled about how no one wanted me. One day, I snapped." Andria stopped, taking a deep breath and checked to see if Murtagh hadn't fallen asleep yet.

"Snapped? Like, you sliced someone's head off?" He joked, making her give a sigh of relief.

"Snapped as in "accidentally" lost control of my magic and lit two elves perfect hair on fire." Murtagh stared at her with his mouth slightly dropped, as if in terrible shock. Then he started laughing.

"I think I would pay to see two elves lose their hair. Why is that something you would hide?" The dark haired boy asked, now resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"My father always told me to never use my magic for revenge. He reminded me over and over again how disappointed he'd be if he found out if I had. I got a long lecture and a single day visit for that time. I've done worse things that you wouldn't laugh about…but only one thing at a time. Your turn," adjusting to lay against him more comfortably, she took one of his hands in hers and let a finger trace over the blue veins under his skin. All of this was so surreal.

"Well, when my father was alive, he got drunk a lot. Other times he'd just be mad, and throw things, but usually he was dizzy with his alcohol. One night, after some fun with a pint, he threw this at me." Andria couldn't help a gasp as he patted the sword on his hip. She had been hit, and had things thrown at her through life, but for a father to throw a sword at his son…it didn't seem possible.

"And you lived?" She asked, wondering how he could survive such a blow.

"A healer nearby saved my life, and I was left with a scar that is on my back. It's quite gruesome, but Eragon use to have the same scar. It brought us closer, but he's lost that now, and all shreds of even looking like family is gone." The solemn look he gave her made her lean up a little to give him a gentle kiss.

"He still thinks of you as family, he just doesn't want to admit it. But if it's any help, I care about you. Well, that sounded sappy," giggling gently, she felt him shake his head and he smiled a little.

"You don't know how much that helps."

Even if that helped, and even if their relationship was growing…not even their lives may make it through the danger that is waiting not too far ahead.


	6. Misunderstanding

Disclaimer: All goes to Paolini, except characters or places you don't know. Those came from my head!

This is another chapter in Andria's POV. This chapter will be done twice, once here, and once in Murtagh's POV. It won't be exactly the same step to step, but it'll clear up all questions I'm sure you'll have after reading this angst filled chapter!

Thanks for all the great reviews, I love hearing feedback!

* * *

Feeling heat come down on her face, the elf-girl blinked several times in the rising sun's glare before her eyes adjusted. The air still smelled like the storm that had passed through last night, her back damp even with two cloaks beneath her. Sitting up, she saw Murtagh a few feet away securing their packs onto Thorn's stomach once more, his face solemn and lost thinking about the days events. Brushing some fingers through tangled hair, she stood up and walked over to where he was.

As she approached, she noticed Eragon was currently doing the same as Murtagh, getting ready to leave for the Varden. Everyone's nerves were high and very apparent in the campsite. Handing the two wet cloaks over to the dark haired Rider, she gave him a small smile before stretching her tired limbs.

"How did you sleep?" she asked, grabbing an apple from one of her packs before he laced it up. Shrugging, he kept packing and refused to look back at her.

"Oh, really? That's interesting," Andria continued, staring at the back of his head. She knew he was brooding, thinking everything over before he went to the Varden willingly. Deep down inside, she knew he was thinking over her as well.

"Yes, quite interesting. How did you sleep Andria? Quite well, thank you Andria," she said sarcastically, trying to get anything out of him. Annoyance, anger, sadness, anything would have been a sign that he was still alive, but he simply turned to stare at her.

"I talked with Eragon this morning. You'll be riding with him," he said blankly, no emotion residing anywhere in his voice. His eyes bored into hers as if making some kind of promise, but she couldn't read what it was before he jumped on Thorn's back and took off.

_We'll see you soon, elfin creature, _Thorn said loudly in her head, making her nod though she knew he couldn't see.

Wishing she had her cloak back, even if it was wet, she walked towards the others in the cool morning. Going inside herself, she began to wonder why he left like that. It had only been the night before when they were laughing, sharing intimate secrets, and kissing. It all seemed like a shock still that she had gotten him that far out of his shell, so maybe it was all a dream. A marvelous dream, and now she was stuck in a nightmare.

Grabbing a tendril of hair that was flowing by her hips, she brought it up to her eyes and inspected it lost in her thoughts. Maybe he just wanted her with Eragon, seeing he had a better reputation and she wouldn't have risk of being attacked if she rode in with him. Yes, that must've been the answer. It had to be.

"Good morning," she said softly, throwing the fight out of her mind that she had with Eragon the night before. He turned and graced her with a smile of his own, as if she just declared she was leaving the dark side and coming over to the light.

"It seems to be so far, yes. Though, rain will be here again soon," he mused, staring up at the still gray ridden sky. The clouds seemed to reflect her mood perfectly, colorless.

"So, how are Roran and Katrina getting to the Varden?" She asked, looking at Saphira and knowing she couldn't take four people at a time.

"They have horses, they'll meet us later. It seems they want the alone time anyway," he smirked at something she didn't know, probably something he discussed with his cousin. Nodding her head, she left him to finish and walked over to her own dragon.

_Wydra, _she greeted, starting to pull her long hair up for the trip.

_Hello Andria. How are you? _She asked nonchalantly, her large head resting next to Andria's feet.

_As best I can be when my only friend has up and gone, _she said coldly, now feeling anger from the sudden flee of Murtagh. How could he just leave her with people she didn't know? He knew she hated confrontation.

He thinks it was best, trust me. It took him many sleepless hours to figure out what to do with you this morning.

_Do with me? It sounds like he is just throwing me out like yesterday's garbage. Do you think he regrets getting close to me? _She didn't really want to hear her dragon's answer, fearing the possible truth that it may hold.

_I don't know, hatchling. Maybe he just believes he's moving too quickly with you. Maybe he's afraid of commitment to one person when many have failed to return it, _Wydra had a very good point. Still, he shouldn't have left.

_Keep close today, I'm not looking forward to riding with someone who's bound to ask questions. _And with that, she walked back to Saphira and gave her a greeting before standing by Eragon's side once more.

"Have you ridden before?" The inquiry began.

"I rode Thorn, yes. I think my thighs are up for the task if that's what you mean," she said, trying to sound as chipper as possible.

"For that, I'm glad. I wouldn't want you going through that pain. Now, we should be off," Andria looked at the camp once more, noticing everyone else was already gone. Fearing this would be the last time she could possibly be independent, she felt sadness build up in her chest.

Turning back, she noticed Eragon had gotten into Saphira's saddle. A tanned hand came down for hers, and she took it with noticing the warmth it held. Murtagh's skin always seemed to be cool, they really didn't seem much like brothers. Settling behind him, she slowly put her arms around his stomach, locking her fingers together as they raised into the air.

"I was wondering…" she thought aloud, her head now resting on the back of his wide shoulders. Thinking of nowhere else to put it, she settled for there so she wouldn't get a crick in her neck.

"Yes?" Eragon answered back, turning his head a little to try and see her.

"Were you looking for me, or just happened upon me?" Andria said, still lost in thought as gray clouds floated by. It was really beautiful in the sky.

"Well, I was actually looking for Murtagh. I've been wanting an explanation for him just leaving the Varden so suddenly with the twins. You were just a bonus, and a grand one at that." He smirked, patting her hands that rested at his front.

"You know, the twins captured him and took him there. It was no sudden wanting to be Galbatorix's maid," she said, trying to sound as happy as he did. The hole inside her just wouldn't leave, and it scared her that Murtagh could even have such an affect.

"Hmm, that puts a new spin on things. So, did you use to live in Ellesmera?" Eragon questioned, his hand falling back to the top of his thighs. She was grateful for that, feeling almost wrong for sitting this close to him.

"Yes, I did. I lived with Oromis, whom I'm sure you've already met. Seeing you have these," she commented, sitting up to pluck the tops of his now slightly pointed ears. He laughed, and she was grateful for the sound.

"He was who trained me, and he did help me through everything. He's a great elf," nodding, she laced her arms back around his waist as Saphira took a large dip.

"I already know what you're thinking, so I'll answer all the questions. I left two years ago, when I was sixteen. Yes, I'm only eighteen, not a hundred and thirty-something," she felt him chuckle, "I left because no one there treated me with any respect or kindness except Oromis. If you didn't know already, elves don't have too high of acceptance of humans. Seeing what my father and mother did was a catastrophe, I got all the blunt ridicule. Oh, and my mother died after giving birth to me, I hope that clears everything up."

"Mostly, yes. You should rest if you're tired, we'll be there shortly," he said soothingly, knowing it was quite difficult to get her to say anything. She was weak right now, her feelings confused.

Even if Murtagh had stayed, and they continued stolen moments in the woods, she never wanted him to fall in love with her. Andria always thought herself a disappointment, something no one should have to endure. She was a loner, an odd looking creature, and someone who couldn't stay on two feet even if they were glued to the ground. Her father always called her beautiful, a girl who was more unique then the average one. He tried his hardest to keep her hopes high, and her dreams close by.

Ever since he left for the final time to be with Eragon, she lost any sense of comfort. Murtagh had been the closest to it, but she couldn't think clearly about anything anymore. Her dreams of travelling the land alone and undisturbed had been interrupted the day she had an egg thrust into her arms. Not that she didn't love Wydra, or was happy someone completely understood her and didn't bother to ask unnecessary questions. It was just the fact that she could never travel from town to town telling stories of her travels like her father had.

Resting her eyes and placing her head gently against the back of Eragon's shoulders once more, she zoned in on the one thought: Murtagh not falling in love with her. She didn't want that, she couldn't have it. So many people had hurt her, even those who loved her. Her past clouded her mind at all times, and her depression was always there. Even when a smile graced her face. How could anyone want to be with someone who could go from happiness to crying about something that had happened six years ago? Andria couldn't let anyone close, because she didn't even know who she was anymore.

---

Feeling someone untwining her arms, she lifted one eyelid into a slit to see Eragon sliding off Saphira before carrying her down as well. Andria didn't want to wake up, she wanted everything to go away. They were at the Varden, she could hear whispers about her looks, her dragon, her current state. She probably looked dead to the normal passerby, her pale skin sticking out under freckles with no trace of color to be found. It was something her father always said, "Your color is all bestowed upon your eyes." Though, those were currently closed and listening to Eragon's rapid heartbeat as he carried her to Gods' know where.

Something soft soon found her body as the Rider's arms came out from under her, his hand fluttering over her forehead before trying to wake her up. His soft voice lulled her almost back to sleep, until she heard the familiar sounds of another voice. One she didn't want to hear. Eyes shooting open, she saw the black haired elf standing just inside the tent. The ever blank face still gracing her beautiful features.

"Arya, we need to find her something to wear. She must look nice to see Nasuada, I had to do it with Ajihad. See if you can find her a dress or something," Andria was well aware that Eragon had no idea what "nice" meant in women's clothes. Without another glance, the lithe elf left again with an air of something she couldn't explain.

"I'm surprised she listened, if we were home she wouldn't even allow me to be in royal court. How much has changed," she said quietly, more to herself then to Eragon. Bright eyes found her again, and she smiled as she sat up on the large cot and he sat next to her.

"She doesn't like to be bossed around, but I think she means well." His eyes glazed over like he was off in some fantasy, and she knew that very well to be the look of love.

"Eragon, I don't mean to offend or say anything mean, but I'd take a step back and just leave what you're thinking alone. She's too old, too proud, and too much of an elf to ever take you. It's against her rulebook to even look at a human more the necessary. Just, be careful is what I'm trying to say. Fantasies really can hurt a person," she said, speaking from experience. They never came true anyway.

"I know, but dreaming is something we all do. She's already turned me down anyway, numerous times. I just wish I could find someone else even an ounce like her. I just love how exotic she looks. Though, I think her exoticness pales in comparison to you," she blushed, the blood rushing all the way up her hairline.

"I don't think I can even be in a comparison to Arya. Just because I'm part human, doesn't mean I'm exotic," she said quickly, her eyes still trapped with his. He just laughed, standing up again to leave as Arya came back.

"It's your freckles that make you stand out, the looks of an elf but with a simple difference. It makes you more unique," and with that, he left. Now she was left in a tent with one of her childhood foes, and it wouldn't be a fun visit.

"Please try not to fall in this, I'm sure its owner would be quite saddened to lose it. Clean your face as well, you are already a disgrace to the elves, no need to make this any worse," and with that she left again. Fighting off any tears that had collected in her eyes, she knew they were just words. Her father said only swords could damage a person forever, words are only things that make you dwell.

Getting up from the cot, she walked over and saw a standard corset and undergarments laying atop an eggplant gown. Looking around the vast tent, she noticed a basin with a pitcher of water next to it. Lacing the tent up to tell people she needed privacy, she stripped off her clothing and began washing her body. The still warm water felt good on sore and tired muscles.

Once done, she laced the corset in the front that only pushed her breasts up further and was made to make her look like she had a desirable hourglass shape. She hated being a woman. After putting everything on that was made to lay beneath the gown, she stepped into the silk carefully. Pulling it over her hips and up to her shoulders, she put her hands in through the sleeves.

The deep purple gown laid snuggly against her, making her even more uncomfortable then she already was. The low neckline drew into a half-circle shape to the top of her chest, the edging lined with an ivy green velvet. Long sleeves, the same green as the trim, laid tight until her elbows where they flowed loosely to her wrists. The ends touched the ground, like any gown would, and she sighed before picking up a detailed comb that laid on the table. It had the same purple in it, and a few crystals. She knew it to be elfin, simply by the way it was made.

After her hair was up in a bun, the comb was set delicately in it, and she had her shoes on, she left the tent. Walking around aimlessly, she wondered if she wasn't just suppose to stay there and wait for someone to fetch her. About to turn around, something caught her eye and she turned back. Sitting behind another tent, she saw the large bleak blood red of Thorn's scales. Rushing over, she smiled at the familiar site of a friend.

_Oh, thank the Gods you made it safely, _she said to him, patting his nose as it lay upon the grass.

_That should have been the least of your worries. Well now, you are a woman, I wasn't sure in that tunic all the time, _he joked, making a deep rumbling that she took as laughter. Rolling her eyes, she was going to ask where Murtagh was before someone interrupted.

"Andria, it's time to go," Eragon was next to her, dressed in nicer clothes then before. She turned to look into his eyes, feeling a little comfort in the fact that he was human but with elfin features. It mildly made them alike in appearance. Nodding sadly, she said goodbye to the large dragon and let the Rider lead her off.

"So, do I have to wear a gown all the time, or am I allowed to put on comfortable clothes at some point?" She said, trying to ease her nerves with humor. It wasn't working.

"After the feast and such, you'll be able to go back to your normal attire. It's a beautiful gown though," he said, trying to give her a compliment but failing seeing it wasn't _her_ gown.

"I'm sure it is, it's just not me," he nodded knowingly, not looking too comfortable in his specially sewn outfit himself. Dressing up was never on a Rider's mind.

Eragon stopped in front of a tent and opened the flap, signaling for her to enter. Getting one more assuring grin, she stepped into the crowded tent to see Murtagh there. Noting the shackles on his wrists, she knew they were taking every precaution before hearing the story.

Turning back to keep her face towards the front, she wouldn't grace him another look. Andria had to keep herself together, and if she dared take another glance at him chained up, she could lose her temper in a hurry. Looking around at all the elves, dwarves, and humans gathered, she took a deep breath and stood tall.

"Please tell us why you've come here, so we can know if you're to be trusted," a woman said, dark in complexion and sitting the tallest in the room. This must be Nasuada.

"I've come here seeking refuge and seeking training. My father, Brom, told me to come here when my egg hatched, it always being a dream of his for me to follow in his footsteps. Now that I have, I've come to need Eragon as an ally and as a friend. It was what he wanted, so it is what I want too. I will be on the Varden's side, if you wish me and my dragon to be," the calmness in her own voice surprised her, seeing her legs were shaking like leaves in the wind.

Deliberating started happening in quite tones so she couldn't get out a thing, even with her elf ears. No one had known her to be a Rider, she could tell it simply by how everyone in the room's faces slightly went out of place. Even the elves.

"If you promise to trust us as we trust you, and help us in battles which we will fight, you are welcome to stay here and become part of the Varden. We seek being your ally more then you seek us being yours," Nasuada seemed pleased, glad the third Rider was on her side. She spoke more simply then Andria imagined, her father's stories of Ajihad making his family seem very strict and to the point. She seemed very calm and friendly, it gave her hope.

"Thank you, I am yours," she curtsied deeply, standing back to look into the kind eyes of the head of the Varden. She repeated it in the ancient language, having Nasuada know she was telling the truth, and stepped back.

"Andria, come here," Eragon whispered, the chair next to him vacant. She knew well enough that it was time for Murtagh to try and convince them he wasn't evil. It was going to be a long while.

---

After long hours of fighting and debating between the Varden and Murtagh, the discussion was over. Murtagh was to be watched carefully, guards or someone with him at all times. He would never be left alone, and he would have to train with her and Eragon. It was all good news, but Murtagh didn't seemed thrilled at all as the shackles came off.

Standing up from her chair, she thanked Eragon for helping her here and then went off after a briskly walking Murtagh. Telling a guard she would "watch" him for a while, he backed off and said he wouldn't be too long after her. Thanking him, she went off to see if she could get anything out of the dark Rider.

Walking up to his tent, she called through it to make sure he knew she was coming in. Though, when she walked in, she was quite sure he hadn't heard her. Standing near his own water basin, he was pouring cold water over his head and unto his bare back. There, pink and shimmering, was a long scar reaching from one shoulder to the opposite hip. She dragged in a deep breath, and watched as he turned around.

"What are you doing here?" He asked harshly, though his eyes kept that hidden promise in them the whole time. She begged the Gods she could read what he was trying to say.

"I was hoping you'd be in good spirits. After all, you don't have to go back to Galbatorix," she smiled gently, hoping to get one out of him.

"What? Since they told me I wasn't a cursed beast you think we can just go back to kissing and declaring secrets I shouldn't have told you in the first place? Are you so blind to think we can keep this up?" Each word stung as he yelled them, making memories flood back about other people yelling. Everyone yelled.

"No, I was just hoping you could lift some stress off. I was happy that you wouldn't have to go back to him," she stated truthfully, not revealing she was hoping for some kind of intimacy.

"I'm thrilled that I get maybe a few weeks before that bastard comes back and tortures me into going back, truly. You, on the other hand, should stay away from me. I'm bad enough without you around, everyone knows I could go crazy at any point. Why don't you act like everyone else and put a large distance between you and I. Go see if you can woo Eragon with your beautiful face, he would be more fit for you anyway," he spat, butt he whole time his eyes never lost the promise. The tears began to spill over delicate eyelashes, and she knew she couldn't get it out of him. All that they had had in the last two days was gone, she had lost the battle of keeping him happy and hers.

"Fine, perhaps I will. At least he doesn't wallow in memories of what daddy did when he was drunk," she said back with as much venom as she could, knowing this was going to hurt him.

"You two will be perfect. He can talk about being a sad orphan and you can talk about how everyone is so mean to you and that you have no one to love you. If you would just get over the fact that not everyone likes you, you wouldn't be so selfish. So what, you look a little different from the average elf, get over it and move on. You're just pitiful," he said with anger replacing the promise in his eyes, and she backed away slowly. The taste of salt hit her lips as the tears continued to glide and she stepped forward again.

Raising her right hand, she brought it across his face as hard as she could. The resonate smack could probably be heard all over the camp, and she didn't care.

"Don't you dare ever speak of things you have not even a clue about. You probably wouldn't have even lived through half the things I have. You aren't the only one who's had a hard life, Murtagh. Try to start realizing it you self absorbed ass," and with that, she stomped off. If it had been a door instead of a flap of a tent, she would have slammed it as hard as possible.

If he didn't want her, she didn't want him. If only it was that simple…


	7. I Can't Watch You Be With Me

He was up before the others, even before the dragons had welcomed the dawn and he knew why. When they were to arrive to the Varden's camp, they weren't going to greet him with open arms and light hearts. He'd be lucky if they didn't shoot him and Thorn down before they touched the ground. Looking to a few feet at his right, Andria was sleeping calmly with a peacefulness on her face he hadn't seen before.

Was he really going to drag this beautiful creature in behind him as the Varden accused him of being the scum of the earth? What was he thinking making a huge promise that he wouldn't be likely to keep? It was her eyes that drug it from him, those emerald orbs that made him promise to never leave her.

Sitting up from his spot on the grass, he ran a tired hand through his tangled black hair. As he thought about the day before and looked over to his brother, he suddenly could feel her lips on his once more. The way she tasted and felt under his hands was something he didn't want to give up. She almost made him want to go back to Galbatorix to rid himself of the feeling of her body with his. He shuddered at the thought.

_It's too early to be this excited, _Thorn yawned in his mind, feeling something that Murtagh hoped he could keep to himself. His arousal was no one else's business.

_Oh, shut up you over grown lizard, _Murtagh shot back, marching off to the creek nearby to cool off. He knew the best thing for him right now would be cold water.

After cupping heaping handfuls of water into his hands and splashing them on his face and neck, Murtagh sat back and listened to the forest around him. Something about the way that Andria had talked about the rain making a orchestra out of the plants and living creatures of the forest had interested him. Tuning into the sounds of the crickets and deer nearby, he tried to hear the melody that she had talked about this place being. All he heard was noise though, and he felt like he somehow failed her.

Hearing a branch break behind him, he turned to see a droopy eyed Eragon walk up to the creek beside him warily. His more fair haired brother nodded to him as a way of saying 'good morning' and took his own turn at splashing cold water on himself.

"Sleep well?" Murtagh said curiously, not sure as what to say to a person who saw him as an enemy.

"As well as I could with someone who wanted to murder me nearby," Eragon said coldly, still sitting down with him. It was like his brother was fighting an internal battle.

"Ah yes, so as well as Andria slept with Roran so close?" He asked, cruelty in his voice that surprised him.

"Roran thought her to be something else, he can't apologize any more for what he did," his brother said, huffing from frustration and exhaustion. Murtagh wondered what he had been through these past few weeks.

As they sat there together and stayed silent, Murtagh looked over the face he had known so well before they were separated. Now though, the round ears had slight points, his eyes became a more almond shape, and his scars were gone from him. It was like he was turning into an elf. Would this happen to him?

"I need you to take Andria with you," he said as coolly as he could, trying to hide any feelings from his brother that he could. Though, he knew Eragon knew him better than anyone.

"I thought as much. I know what the Varden will probably do to you when you come back, it's best to keep her safely out of your range for that time," Eragon said as if he had stayed up all night planning the same thing. Well, at least they were on the same page.

"Yes, so make sure she is looked after. Now that the Twins are gone, we won't have to worry about the internal inspection. I'm not sure she would have made it through that," he said quietly, more to himself then his brother.

"I'll watch her as if she was my own," and they way Eragon had said this, the intimacy in his voice, made Murtagh wish more that he could take her to the Varden himself. He didn't need his brother getting on her better side before he could explain what he was doing.

"Thank you, Eragon. I know you will." Without waiting for his brother's response, he stood up and walked back towards the camp.

-----

A few hours later he was close to being finished packing when he heard Andria wake up. He didn't want to face her, he had slightly hoped he could have escaped before she awoke but his side trip to the creek had made him dawdle too long.

"Good morning," she said softly, walking over to him as she stretched her stiff limbs. Refusing to look at her, he kept his mind on making sure everything was secure on Thorn's stomach.

She kept talking, to herself mostly as if making up for his part of the conversation would please her. The sound of her melodic voice made him want to take her with him and fly far away where no one would find them. A place like that didn't exist though, so he turned to her and looked at no where but her eyes.

"I talked with Eragon this morning. You'll be riding with him," he said bluntly, daring no to show an emotion that would tell her he wanted it any other way. He didn't want her to fight against this.

He heard Thorn say they would see her soon, and he climbed onto his dragon's back and took off. The cool air damp with future rain stuck to his cheeks and he didn't look back.

_You are doing this the wrong way, _Thorn said deeply, navigating his way through the clouds towards their imminent doom. At least it felt that way to Murtagh.

_And how would you have done it, dragon? _Murtagh asked coldly, resting his body against his companions to keep the water droplets out of his eyes.

_You should have told Andria why we were leaving her there with Shadeslayer, why you broke a promise you so dutifully made, _Thorn growled at him like he was upset, that he hated that he had hurt Andria by leaving her with Eragon.

_It's not as if my brother is going to torture her, Thorn. She's safe and I doubt she's that upset she doesn't get to ride with us. _After he said this, he actually thought about how she was feeling.

Was she upset with him? Did she feel betrayed? He knew he felt horrible for doing it and slightly sick with worry that something might happen on her journey, but he hadn't thought about her feelings until now. He suddenly felt very selfish and foolish.

_Hatchling, you must think before you do. You don't plan very well. Sleep little one, you'll need your strength,_ Thorn said more calmly, and it didn't take long for Murtagh to obey.

-----

He woke up to yelling and growling loud in his ears. Opening his eyes with a hand falling to Zar'roc, he looked around at the members of the Varden staring at him with fear and anger. They knew who he was long before they had landed, and he could see a large guard coming at him with an axe that could slice him in half. So much for a peaceful visit.

"I come here meaning no harm to your people. I seek council with your queen," he said much more steadily than he felt. His knees were shaking along Thorn's spines.

"Why should we let you see our queen when you've betrayed us so?" The large guard said, swinging his axe with emphasis on his "betrayal".

"I have not betrayed you, and this is what I've come to clear up," he said again, more loudly and confidently than before.

They all studied him carefully like he was some new breed, a few jogged away and a few sheathed their swords. The whole time Murtagh didn't let his eye contact dwindle from the guard's, not wanting to show the terror he was feeling at the axe the man held.

One of the men who had ran away came back and walked to the larger man. They had a hushed conversation and the smaller man handed the guard some shackles. Murtagh already knew where this was going, and he was happy he wouldn't be sliced in half anytime soon.

"Murtagh, son of Morzan, you will be imprisoned until the queen deems you otherwise," the guard said loudly and with such pride in his voice it almost made Murtagh smile.

Sliding down from Thorn's back, he stood in place as one man took away his dagger, horn, bow, and sword as the larger guard shackled his wrists together in front of him. After he was securely locked into his handcuffs, the men marched him off as he heard Thorn fight off anyone who dared try to tie him down.

_Well done, Thorn, _he smiled in his mind's eye to his dragon and kept pace with the others.

Walking through the camp he saw Saphira safely land a few tents over as he went towards his prison. Eragon had gotten off her back and was holding Andria like a small child in his arms as the Varden welcomed him back. As long as Andria was only sleeping, Murtagh was equally as happy to see his brother.

"You'll be in here until we summon you in front of the queen," the guard said, setting his axe next to the large cage as they pushed him inside. At least he could sit down without being crammed inside.

"Not as nice as my place in Farthen Dur," he said sarcastically, settling on the bit of hay that laid in the bottom of his cage.

No one responded to his remark, allowing him to become comfortable and take a small nap before he was to beg for forgiveness.

-----

When he was presented in front of Nasuada later that evening, he could hear the angry whispers and tempers rising within the tent as he was placed on his knees in front of the queen. After being told he'd have to wait until the other Rider was sworn in, he watched as Eragon came in with Andria gliding behind him.

The first thing he noticed was that her hair was up in a comb. The second was that she was wearing a dress. The third was the burning sensation gathering in his groin as he looked at how the gown tapered to her body. Groaning as she looked at him with her emerald eyes and then quickly away again, he bowed his head and studied the grass below him as she spoke.

"Thank you, I am yours." The words easily slid from Andria's lips minutes later and he was pulled up to his feet again.

Wishing he could get the hair out of his eyes, he stood before Nasuada with not an emotion crossing his face except, perhaps, worry. He watched as Andria took her seat next to Eragon and the look that crossed Arya's face as she stood behind them. If he didn't know Arya better, he would have named her jealous.

"Murtagh, son of Morzan, and bidder of the Empire's needs, why do you stand before me?" Nasuada said with such disdain he hadn't heard from her before. Once, he thought they could have been friends if not more. That felt so long ago.

"I stand before you, leader of the Varden, in hopes to show you my true story and not the one you have written for me," Murtagh began slowly, Thorn listening as he spoke. He felt comforted that his dragon was always with him.

"Is that so? So this story I have somehow written for you, does it not entail you cowardly escaping with the Twins after my father…died," she said with a brief moment of discomfort at the mention of her father.

"I had not known you father fallen, and I did not escape in any form of cowardice. I was captured, stripped of my clothing as evidence as if I had been killed, and taken to the Empire under order's of Galbatorix. He believed me to be the next Rider," he continued, Thorn relaying things to say to Nasuada in case he became short handed.

"You think us dense enough to believe this dung of a story?" One man shouted, making the entire tent explode in such a manner that Murtagh shifted uncomfortably hoping he wasn't losing ground.

"What do you believe Eragon Shadeslayer? What do you take Murtagh to be?" Nasuada said, turning to his brother as Eragon sat up straighter in his seat.

"If he had harmed me or taken me back to Galbatorix as he easily could have during the battle, I would have never believed his confession. Now, though, I do believe he is telling the truth….even if not the whole story," Eragon announced to the tent, making everyone begin to chatter again annoyingly.

"And you, Andria of Ellesmera, what do you take Murtagh to be?" He hadn't expected this question and when he looked up to Andria, it didn't seem she expected it either.

"I trust and believe that Murtagh would not dare lie in front of you, Nasuada. I also believe he would say this in the old language if you wanted to make sure he was telling the truth," Andria said with a slight stutter in her words. He could tell she was nervous.

"Murtagh?" As he closed his eyes and recited his story in the ancient language, he was surprised by the fluidity as he spoke them. He had learned this language long ago from his father and more recently again from Galbatorix, but he never knew he would be able to speak it so gracefully.

"That being said, I will have you under close guard until I feel that I can fully trust you. I'll have you train with the other Riders in weeks to come as I'm sure another battle will be on our land. No doubt Galbatorix will want blood for the betrayal you are placing upon him," he nodded, knowing that the happiness she felt at having all the Rider's under her watch was shadowed by the fear she had for her people at having this advantage.

As the shackles were removed, the people in the tent left and he watched Eragon and Andria speak in whispers about something as he was lead off to his tent. His night guard stood outside as he walked into his somewhat large tent and went over to the cot and settled into it.

Here he was, free from Galbatorix and the Varden behind his back. Yet, he felt unhappy because he was missing something. Or rather someone. He knew he'd have to keep the distances if he were to keep her not only safe, but sane. She had no idea of his past and he didn't want her tangled in it. He rather die than let her fall in love with someone like him. He rather her be with Eragon.

Removing his tunic and shirt beneath it, he took a cloth and soaked it with water before wringing it out over his back. The cool water traced over every inch of his back and he could feel it fall over his scar before he heard a small voice he didn't expect.

"What are you doing here?" He said with a sneer, turning to her quickly and seeing her cheeks high with a flush of excitement. She surprised him, showing up in his tent was a bold move and he wasn't sure what he was going to say. He hadn't planned out his attack on her just yet, the words to make her keep her distance weren't well formulated. Yet, he watched as one of her hands drew along her neck and to her breasts as she spoke.

Giving her up would not be easy.

"I was hoping you'd be in good spirits. After all, you don't have to go back to Galbatorix," Andria said with a small smile, hope straining in her voice as he continued to stare at her.

_Stay calm, Murtagh, _he heard Thorn say in the back of his mind but he blocked it the best he could.

"What? Since they told me I wasn't a cursed beast you think we can just go back to kissing and declaring secrets I shouldn't have told you in the first place? Are you so blind to think we can keep this up?" The lies that were coming from his mouth hit her the way he wanted them too. He wanted her to feel hurt if it meant she wouldn't be physically hurt.

"No, I was just hoping you could lift some stress off. I was happy that you wouldn't have to go back to him," she said quietly, her eyes still holding some hope that she did, indeed, want that intimacy. Parts of him couldn't hide that he wanted it too. Cursing himself, he dug deep for a horrible memory to help his anger rise.

"I'm thrilled that I get maybe a few weeks before that bastard comes back and tortures me into going back, truly. You, on the other hand, should stay away from me. I'm bad enough without you around, everyone knows I could go crazy at any point. Why don't you act like everyone else and put a large distance between you and I. Go see if you can woo Eragon with your beautiful face, he would be more fit for you anyway."

Murtagh spat, watching small tears rise in her green eyes. It was working, but the more he yelled at her the more awful he felt. Also, as the words became harsher, the more angrier Thorn became and the harder he had to try to block him out.

"Fine, perhaps I will. At least he doesn't wallow in memories of what daddy did when he was drunk." The anger she had mustered put him in awe for a moment, never expecting her to ever be as harsh as he was. At least this was working, even if it did bring out the terrible side in her.

"You two will be perfect. He can talk about being a sad orphan and you can talk about how everyone is so mean to you and that you have no one to love you. If you would just get over the fact that not everyone likes you, you wouldn't be so selfish. So what, you look a little different from the average elf, get over it and move on. You're just pitiful," there, he had let his temper completely fill him and forgot about promises and stolen kisses as long as it made her keep her distance. As he watched her glittering tears slide across her lips, he held on even tighter to that emotion.

She stalked over to him, making him afraid for a moment that she was going to try and kiss him. Though, that was soon replaced by a hard smack against his cheek that he had no doubt everyone heard. Murtagh knew he'd be feeling it with weeks to come.

"Don't you dare ever speak of things you have not even a clue about. You probably wouldn't have even lived through half the things I have. You aren't the only one who's had a hard life, Murtagh. Try to start realizing it you self absorbed ass." She walked away and threw back the flap of his tent as if to slam it.

Now that she was gone, he could leave all his feelings about her behind.

Or could he?


End file.
